


Spacefarers

by Synodic



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Humanformers, SCIFI AU, Violence, sentient ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:28:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6804037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synodic/pseuds/Synodic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sci-Fi humanformer AU drabbles of varying lengths, featuring various characters but all in the same universe!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Starscream

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be updated as I continue, because I'm not exactly sure where this is going. I'm just having fun.  
> Also, the humanformer designs I'm using are  based on  [ these designs.](http://cosmicdanger.tumblr.com/post/143863146287/)

Starscream had been a prince, once. 

He wondered what that still meant, if anything, as he looked over the group of about seventy people currently crammed in the cargo hold of an old freighter. Was he still a prince, when all of his home was in ruins? Was he still a prince of these people, a small pocket of an unknown number of survivors, who had made it out of the fire and wreckage? Did his title mean anything at all? 

What would his father say of his doubt? 

Skywarp approached him from the side, holding out a small canteen that sloshed mostly empty. 

“It’s not great,” he shrugged as Starscream drank it slowly, savouring it, “But it’s what me and the others have been able to get out of the water pumps.” 

It tasted foul, and grit stuck to the back of his tongue, but at least it was water. “Is there enough to distribute?” 

“Not a lot, but it’s enough to keep us going.” 

Starscream nodded. It had become a common phrase among them, and it rankled at his pride that they could not do more. “Any idea where we’re headed, yet?” 

“Thundercracker’s best guess is a trading port, something that was on its route before it was decommissioned.”

The freighter that had saved them was old-- old enough to have a Mind, though it was distant and confused. It had taken a surprisingly small amount of coaxing to get it moving out of the scrapyard where Skywarp had found it, but that was about all the direction it had taken. Since it had entered space it had become unresponsive, though it seemed to have a steady course and speed. It wasn’t surprising, really; it was a mess, most of its systems broken down or weak. At least the life support worked, however barely. That would be next, after the water situation was attended. It was boiling hot from lack of fresh air, and some of the children and elderly were not fairing well. 

He could only hope that he had not doomed what might be the last of Vos to death in an airless coffin.

  
  


Vos had been a small planet, wealthy and independent, with a rich flow of exports that were coveted across the systems. Vosian textiles were synonymous with affluence and prosperity, a status symbol to be flashed at parties to jealous onlookers. All the more valuable now, he thought bitterly, that they were no longer made. 

It made bartering off the fine dresses and jewelry of his mother more lucrative, at least, and got him enough for medical aid, food, and ship repairs with a little to save.  _ She always did have good taste _ , he thought wryly as he walked among the huddled masses, distributing small packages of nutrition bars and water pods. The air was stale and thick with the smell of overly ripe humanity, and Starscream hated that he had become so used to it in their weeks long voyage that he no longer choked with every breath. The air refreshers were on the list of things to be repaired, thankfully, along with the structural weaknesses in some of the upper decks that had kept them all crammed together in the hold.

Medics followed in his wake, checking over injuries and doing what they could. But for a few, thankfully, their wounds were mostly internal. A deep stab of grief and terror that even Starscream himself felt was echoed in all of them, blistering with the loss of their homes, families, and peace of mind. The medics had refused to be paid other than for the cost of supplies, at least. 

He nodded at the quiet thanks he received in hoarse whispers, voices and bodies too weak for more. His steps up the rickety stairs towards the landing were slow and tired, and he sat carefully on the edge, mindful of the lack of a railing. 

Starscream didn’t even notice he had company until a hand touched his shoulder, drawing him out of the numb middle-distance he’d been staring into. Skywarp smiled at him and held out a nutrient bar, the wrapping already undone for him. 

“You forgot to get yourself something.” 

He didn’t take it. “Has one been distributed to everyone?”

Skywarp rolled his eyes, an effect exaggerated by the dark bags under them, “Duh. I’m not an idiot, Star.”

“Debatable.” Starscream grumbled, taking the bar and nibbling on a corner. 

It was bland, but thankfully not dry. If anything it was...gooey. He wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, would never complain again about anything he ate, as long as he had something. 

Something was always better than nothing. 

  
  


The freighter ended up being beyond repair-- it was a miracle, the port master said, that they’d made it to the station at all. Starscream was at least refunded the upfront cost of the repairs that wouldn’t happen, his gaze falling on the paintless, weathered hull that had born him and his people from what felt like hell itself. 

The credit stick was heavy in his hand, and he clenched it tight. It was just one thing after another, wasn’t it? 

After some asking he was directed to a small apartment block. It would be cramped, but it was better than the cargo hold, and came with running water and fresh air. Some people had donated things like blankets and clothes, a few beds. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Starscream expected. Enough to get them started. 

  
  


They had only been living in the apartments for about a week when the ship died. 

It wasn’t a death like humans knew it, but it was death all the same. It’s core had finally given out, all of its parts unresponsive and its computers refusing to boot. 

The Vosians held a funeral for it, as was their custom-- and none of them paid any mind to the strange looks they got while writing their small prayers on its hull. Had they been on Vos, the ship would have been melted down, a piece of its core mounted in the tombs of Starscream’s own ancestors. Laid to rest side-by-side with the royalty of generations.

Starscream did not tell his people that he and Thundercracker sold the dead husk for whatever spare parts it could offer, but he knew from the glances that some of the adults suspected as much when he brought home apples alongside their usual rations. He didn’t have room in him to feel ashamed when the apples were so sweet.

 


	2. Skywarp

He had always dreamed of going to the stars. Since he was little, he’d had an affinity for ships, especially the old ones with minds of their own. One of his earliest memories was of him at seven years old, crawling through his older brother’s workshop like a jungle. He’d somehow ended up in the open hull of a ship, and it had been an exciting adventure at the time, wiggling into the deepest, darkest parts. 

Nobody believed him, when he told them later, that he heard the ship talk to him. He’d never been scared of it, not once, even though he didn’t know exactly who or what he was talking to at the time. It had started as a soft brush against his mind, like a small yawn, before it opened up entirely. Curious, and full of just as much wonder as Skywarp.

“Hullo?” 

It felt weird to speak to the open air, but he knew that the touch pressing against his racing thoughts was not from inside himself. His little heart raced in excitement.

_ Do not be afraid, little one/Safety/Peace/Comfort _

“I’m not.”

_ Amusement/Joy/Lost? Very far inside. _

“Nah. I’m not lost. I remember the way.” 

It was delighted at his company, and he remembered spending hours talking to it until he heard the muffled shouts of his brother calling for him. He was in trouble, it sounded like, but he couldn’t bring himself to care that much. His brother was mad at  _ everything _ he did. 

He came back every day until the ship was repaired, keeping it company and listening to its stories of distant stars. Skywarp fell in love.

  
  


His brother didn’t get many older ships-- but Skywarp met each and every one of them when they did pass through. It was hard not to, when it was his brother’s responsibility to watch him after he was done with school for the day. They all spoke to him, in their own way; some of them sang in the edges of his mind like the chords of a harp, while others talked in hazy images. An old private vessel, stern and serious, would not touch Skywarp’s mind at all past the initial inquisitive brush, but instead spoke to him by flashing the lights of its displays. None of them seemed to mind him crawling around them, or at the very least tolerated him. 

Even the crankiest ships made good friends.

  
  


To Skywarp, ships were familiar and synonymous with safety, and when the sky turned to flames and the towers began to fall his first thought was to get to the shipyard. 

He had been with Starscream when the sirens had sounded, and the royal guard burst into his room, hauling him up out of his nest of book with much less gentleness than they would normally dare. With hands on his shoulders they forcefully marched Starscream out, and it was only the loud screech of “ _ Them too, you imbeciles!” _ that got Skywarp and Thundercracker added to the whirlwind of bodies. He didn’t catch much, but he heard enough to know that the king was dead, and the enemies at their gates would be coming for the prince next. 

They had planned to get Starscream on a shuttle, to get him off of Vos entirely and to some allied world-- but it was a little hard to accomplish when the shuttle was immolated by laser cannon before they even reached the flight deck. If they could not go up, then they would have to go down.

 

Skywarp had never seen somebody die before, but he didn’t expect it to happen so fast. The guard standing to his right suddenly went down, a crispy hole where his face should have been. From down the hall came more laser fire, and Skywarp was glad that Thundercracker was unshakeable, because without a shove he would have still been stuck there staring at the dead body, hysterically thinking about how the burned meat looked like his last attempt at cooking. 

The guards were whittled down one by one, the last of them shoving roughly at their bodies until the three of them were crammed in a dumbwaiter. It would take them out through the servant’s level, and from there on they would be alone. Skywarp watched the people he’d seen around for years, a background in his friendship with Starscream, until the very last moment. He didn’t know what to feel. 

 

He was numb-- they were all numb-- as they emerged into the chaotic streets. Ash was in their lungs with their first breath, the taste in the back of their mouth. Skywarp clung tightly to Thundercracker and Starscream both, desperate to not lose either of them as they dodged patrols and panicked crowds alike. Starscream clutched an old box to his chest, a subspace trunk he knew to be full of his mother’s old things. One of the guards must have grabbed it instead of the emergency evacuation box by mistake.

It didn’t look like Starscream was going to let it go, regardless.

 

Seven hours later and Skywarp was climbing the fence of the shipyard, while Thundercracker kept lookout for the telltale screech of the enemy’s fighters. Most of them had moved off to other cities, but a few stuck around to fly wide sweeps, picking off any movement that wasn’t their ground troops. Starscream was back with the other people they’d found, no doubt stewing at being left behind while his two friends went to see if Skywarp was right about getting them a way off-world.  

The two of them moved silently, with Skywarp leading. He’d seen a ship here once or twice, and he knew it could fly. Just how well, and if it would be willing to, was another matter. It was nestled at the very back, tucked in among some other ships that were resting on stilts for repairs. 

It was unnervingly quiet, even when Skywarp got inside. He made his way to the bridge, weaving his way around rust-eaten holes in the floor, and under ceiling beams that creaked ominously. The bridge was just as bad, but at least there weren’t any holes around the captain’s chair. With a deep breath Skywarp sat, his fingers hovering above the unlit touch-pads. 

This was all he’d ever wanted, to sit in a chair like this and steer a ship. 

Skywarp’s hands gently came to rest on the cool metal, his fingers falling naturally into the worn finger-pads. There was a long moment of silence, his mind quiet and his own, and he desperately clung to the hope that it was just old, and slow. 

_ …….pilot……? _

He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, welcoming the fuzziness that threatened to cotton his own thoughts. 

“Can you fly?”

Skywarp needn’t have asked, he realized as soon as he spoke. There, at the edges, he could feel the ship as if it was his own body. He felt its age, and the numbness in its parts that had rusted through. Decriped, but space-worthy. 

_ ….f…..ly…...fly…...space? _

_ Yeah. Space. Will you fly for us? _ he asked it.

_ Cargo?  Yes, I am…….a cargo vessel…. _

Skywarp chewed on his lip, his forehead beading with sweat. He felt its Mind slipping away, and it was an effort to anchor it, to keep it present. It didn’t speak again, but the lights on the consoles (the ones that still worked) blinked on, and down below the cargo bay doors opened. 

 

It was the dead of night when the ship heaved itself into the air, but you wouldn’t know it from looking outside. The much of Vos was still burning, and it lit up the sky like a red morning. Billows of smoke masked their escape, and blocked out a clear view of the ruins.

Sixty-eight Vosians watched their home shrink beneath them. 

Skywarp only had eyes for the stars ahead.


	3. Thundercracker

Thundercracker scrolled further down the datapad, his eyes burning with exhaustion. He wasn’t about to stop when he was so close to finishing up, though. His father had been an accountant, his mother a district attorney-- and even when he’d chosen to go into the sciences for the later half of his education, he had picked up his fair share of knowledge from the both of them. It was enough to make him the most qualified for dealing with the station paperwork. 

Starscream was best at spearheading his way into getting what they needed, a master negotiator and smooth talker; he was a force to be reckoned with at any time, but especially when he had something to accomplish. He did not, however, have the patience for all the background work. Thundercracker was the one who processed the paperwork involved in getting all the Vosians reissued their citizenship cards, who made sure he knew the laws so they didn’t get shafted when seeking jobs or an apartment. He managed the budget, making sure they slowly got what they needed, like scissors and soap and kitchenware-- the small things that nobody thought about until they didn’t have them. 

Now, he was looking over the interplanetary laws to see if they could file for aid. Starscream hadn’t asked him to. Hadn’t wanted him to. Vos had been an independent planet, free from the united system, and the Prince of Vos did not want to let them get their grimy mits on anything Vosian, which they had worked to keep from happening already. 

But Thundercracker knew the numbers. He obsessed over them. They needed something else.

He sighed, turning off the pad and scrubbing a hand over his eyes. Starscream was out late, having taken the last of what had been in the trunk he’d escaped with-- said he found a seller for some of the smaller pieces. Thundercracker wasn’t sure how Starscream felt about it. His friend was nothing if not pragmatic, sometimes to the point of being cold, but hawking the belongings of his late mother? He made a mental note to check in with him at some point.

He sighed and groaned as he climbed up off his nest of blankets on the floor, stretching until his back popped. The other nest of blankets on the other side of the tiny room was empty. 

_ Still empty _ . He amended. Skywarp had been out since early morning, doing whatever it was he did to bring home money. Thundercracker didn’t exactly want to know, if his friend wasn’t going to volunteer the information. He said it was legal. He helped pay the bills. That was the extent to which he cared.

He shuffled in bare feet through the living room to the kitchen, mindful of any noise he made. There were five people who shared the main room, and they were already asleep by the looks of it-- Thundercracker didn’t want to wake them if he could help it, knowing that they had early shifts. 

The faucet squeaked when he turned it on, filling a bowl with water-- loud enough that he didn’t hear the door to the apartment opening. Which meant that he didn’t know that Skywarp had come home until he was literally three inches from him. 

Thundercracker wasn’t prone to yelling, but he did drop the bowl in the sink, rousing a chorus of groans and protests from the other occupants of the apartment as it bounced and echoed against the metal basin. 

“Skywarp!” he hissed, fumbling to stop the bowl from bouncing again and shutting off the water. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry! Sorry! But listen, TC--” He turned, finding Skywarp with wide, excited eyes and engine grease on his upper cheek. “You gotta come with me. C’mon there’s something-- look just follow me okay?”

Thundercracker had to lean against the sudden tug on his arm to stop from being hauled out barefoot and jacket-less, “Fine! Fine okay just lemme put some shoes on at least?”

His friend stopped, blinking owlishly before looking down between them. “Well, okay yeah, sure, but hurry!”

He rolled his eyes as the pulling turned to shoving, and he was tempted to resist, but he knew if he didn’t move fast enough his friend would probably just up and carry him out. Skywarp, much like Starscream, was not known for his patience. Only instead of  _ just _ being a pest, Skywarp decided to  _ help you _ move faster. And he was stronger than he looked. 

 

Thundercracker was dressed in record time, and let Skywarp tug him along by the sleeve. It was much like having an excited puppy tug on its leash. A puppy who was leading him down twisted alleys, hidden stairwells, and through defunct sewage tunnels. Skywarp refused to tell him what the big deal was, instead pleading with him that he just  _ trust him _ . 

He blamed his lack of resistance on the lack of sleep. It had nothing at all to do with how weak in the knees he felt when Skywarp turned his pleading gaze on him. 

 

Forty minutes later and they emerged from a hand operated lift, out into what looked like the stations’ scrap yard. Rusted metal and jagged mountains of ship parts went as far as the eye could see, no doubt waiting to be shipped out by hauler to one of the smelters. A station like this just didn’t have the capacity to do that kind of work its own. 

His eyes rolled to look at Skywarp pointedly. He had to be  _ kidding _ . 

“We’re going to either fall and die, or cut ourselves and get tetanus then die.” 

“What? No we’re not. We’re not going out  _ there _ .” Skywarp wrinkled his nose at the sea of wreckage. “C’mon.” 

There was a small walkway that went around the bowl of the scrapyard; while Skywarp walked it confidently, Thundercracker took his time, feeling a little more worried about the sudden drop on one side. His friend waited ahead, bouncing on his heels as he held a grate open. 

“How are you  _ not  _ out of energy yet.” 

“I suck it out of you while you sleep.”

“And I suppose you want me to go in there.” Thundercracker said, dread creeping down his spine as he considered the four by four, completely dark passage. 

“Yup!”

There was a long moment where he considered just turning right around and going back up to the apartment, and straight to bed. His nice, comfortable bed on the floor. With no dark tunnels or sharp metal death traps to be seen. 

He hoped his sigh conveyed the depth of his reluctance, as he got down on his creaking knees and crawled into the tunnel. 

 

It went forward about thirty feet, and each inch of the way Thundercracker could feel grime rubbing into his clothes and skin. Regret. So much Regret. 

“Just pop off the other grate when you get to it.” Warp said cheerfully from behind. 

“Right.” 

He could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and resisted the urge to make certain comparisons. His mood was declining, and he hoped that whatever it was was damn well  _ worth it _ because if it wasn’t, he was going to have to explain to Starscream exactly why they were down one Vosian. 

_ Well you see, Starscream. I just had to toss him into a trash compactor. You know how it is. But hey! One more ration to go around! _

His thoughts continued churning uncharitably as his hands finally came in contact, and he gave it a mighty push. It didn’t budge. 

“Warp. It’s not moving.” 

“Are you sure you pushed hard enough?”

Kicking him in the face  _ almost _ happened, but he resisted the urge only just. 

He shoved at it again, groaning, “Yeah it’s stuck.” 

And now his shoulder hurt. He just wanted to sleep. 

“Here lemme try-”

“-what, Warp!”

“Move your weakass noodle body.” 

“My- oh my god I’m going to _ kill you _ .” 

Thundercracker grunted and winced as Skywarp pushed up alongside, then under him, shimmying until they were sandwiched with only a breath between their faces. Skywarp’s body was a long line of warmth down his front, and the stray thought that he smelled nice turned it from uncomfortable to  _ uncomfortable for entirely different reasons.  _

He moved his attention back to the grate, paying close attention to the rust stains on the metal, distracting himself from the rising heat in his face and the pounding of his heart in his ears. Deep, even breaths was the key. 

Skywarp chose that moment to shift, pressing his hips back and up and  _ he was going to die from his soul leaving his body _ . 

Thundercracker wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not when the grate seemed to just pop off for his friend, and the warmth was suddenly gone as Skywarp slithered out headfirst. Thundercracker got his first good look at the room beyond. It was another scrap room, but this seemed more like complete machines that had been discarded, and less like, well, scraps. 

“C’mon!”

Thundercracker yelped as he was hauled out of the tunnel by his shoulders. 

 

Chasing Skywarp over a sea of appliances was every bit as terrible as it sounded. 

Thundercracker, out of breath, paused to lean on an old fuel pump, not caring that he was getting his jacket even more filthy. “Warp! Warp please. Some of us have to actually like, breathe.”

“We’re close.” Skywarp promised, making his way back over to him, “It just a little farther.”

“You said that five minutes ago.” 

“And we would be there by now if you didn’t keep stopping.” 

Thundercracker groaned, “Just move a little slower, okay? I’m an academic not a gymnast.” 

Skywarp rolled his eyes, but did as he asked. 

 

Thundercracker was almost positive that it was all just going to be a big joke when they made it to the far wall, but he followed Skywarp regardless. Until he started climbing an old steel beam like some kind of monkey. 

“Uh, Warp?”

“Cmon TC! We just gotta go through there.” His heart leapt up in his throat as his friend lifted one hand from his hold to point at a small maintenance hatch near the ceiling. The very far way ceiling. 

“No.”

“No? What do you mean, ‘no’?”

He crossed his arms, looking at that small hole, and the beam leading up to it. A beam which Skywarp had probably moved there himself. “Listen. I want to believe you that there’s something important, but we’ve been in the underbelly of the station for  _ two hours _ , crawling through  _ garbage _ , probably in  _ restricted areas,  _ and now you want me to go up a pole into another mystery hole? I don’t think so. I mean, this alone-- do you know how many ways you could get hurt? We don’t… ‘warp we don’t have the money to get help if either of us get hurt! Please just come down!”

“Please! Please, c’mon, please, you said you’d trust me!”

“And I do! But I don’t even know what we’re here for! I don’t know if the gain is worth the risk! This is just-- this is getting very convoluted Skywarp.” He sighed, rubbing fingers over his eyes before he remembered how dirty they were. “Please just...just come down and let’s go home. I don’t want you climbing up there.”

“But-”

“How about this. I’m going back and you can follow me or not.” 

He turned on heel, refusing to look back. Maybe there  _ was _ something. But he’d known Skywarp to treat an antique water pump as an exciting treasure before, and he wasn’t going to risk his neck for something that really wasn’t worth it. 

“It’s a ship.” 

That got him to stop, and he turned around slowly. Skywarp had climbed down, and was standing at the base of it, kicking a foot back and forth. He looked dejected. Disappointed? Thundercracker just knew that he looked upset. 

“It’s not a big one. Probably a five-crew type of deal. But it’s… it’s got all it’s parts. A few things should be replaced before it’s spaceworthy again, but all in all its in really good shape.”

A ship. A ship was a life-changer. Except-

“Then what’s it doing down here?” He gestured to the room at large as he walked back. “If it’s in such good shape then why abandon it? And why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“‘Cuz it’s old. Old enough to have a Mind, I mean, and I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Oh, ow. Right in the guilt. 

And yes, that was a rather big complication. It meant it was a very, very low chance that they could get it to actually work again if it was still mourning its pilot. He knew that Skywarp was good with ships and mechanical things, but the freighter that got them out of Vos was a fluke, probably too old to tell the difference between humans anymore. 

“Can you get it to work?”

“Well. I haven’t tried yet? I think I can though. Will you….will you let me show you? Please?” 

Thundercracker eyed the beam, then the small hole at the top. 

“Yeah. Show me.”


End file.
